You Make Me Believe
by x-x-Rhii-x-x
Summary: Puck realises that sometimes, life is just like a cheesy movie. That doesn't make it any less amazing. Puck/Quinn. This is a follow-up to "Weather it Together", but you don't need to have read that first.


_**Puck realises that sometimes, life can be like a cheesy movie. That doesn't make it any less amazing. Puck/Quinn. This is a companion piece to **_**Weather it Together**_**, but you don't necessarily have to read that first.**__**I don't own **_**Glee**_** or **_**Something; **_**they belong to Ryan Murphy and Shakira respectively. I hope you like it…**_

**XOXO**

I sigh as I walk through the doorway of my house. I have a lot of apologising to do, I know that well enough. Arguing with my fiancée and storming from the house isn't a regular occurrence, but it happens occasionally. Sometimes, she's the one to walk out for an hour or two. It depends on the argument.

I can hear her singing in our baby girl's bedroom, which makes the corners of my lips tug upwards into a small, wan smile. Quinn Fabray isn't a "strong" singer – she leaves the power-singing to Mercedes and Rachel – but she has a sweet, pure voice. It is perfect for the song she is singing. I creep closer to her voice.

"_Before I met you, __I wasn't terribly lucky__  
__Every prince charming lost charm after twelve,__  
__But then you came and made the past look so funny,__  
__Put my old sadness to sleep on a shelf…_"

I am definitely smiling now – I know she loves this song, so the fact she is singing it after an argument with me is all the proof I need to know that she still loves me.

"_If this was meant to be__  
__Don't condemn me to be free,__  
__And even if we never marry,__  
__I will always love you, baby,__  
__Childishly…_"

I am just outside baby Naomi's door now. Quinn. I love her a lot more than I believe I am ever able to express to her. So I do the only thing that feels right for the occasion. I join in.

"_'Cause something,__  
__You've got something I can't resist,__  
__Things are what they will be__  
__When I look into your eyes,__  
__They say to me that God still exists_

_And there's something__  
__You've got something I can't resist__  
__Things are what they will be__  
__When I look into your eyes__  
__They say to me that God still exists__  
__You make me believe__  
__You make me believe…_"

Our vocals intertwine as though we have rehearsed the song. To her credit, Quinn doesn't even stop singing as she hears me singing from the other side of the closed door. She doesn't even pause when I slide the door open and step inside. She has her back to me, facing baby Naomi, and she doesn't turn. Not yet.

"_I love the temperature and smell of your body,__  
__The shape of your lips and the size of your nose,__  
__I love that everything you say is so funny,__  
__Plus you're the best kisser that I've ever known…_"

And so I sing to Quinn as if my life depends on it. I don't see the smile that has spread across her face until she turns to sing the next part to me.

"_You see the way I am__  
__Without make-up, without clothes,__  
__And you accept me like nobody__  
__And I will always love you, baby__  
__With eyes closed…_"

Quinn closes her eyes and moves closer to me, until we are within touching distance of one another. We repeat the chorus together, and I reach out to touch her arm. She smiles, and I see the tear tracks running down the pale skin of her cheeks. I instantly feel about a hundred times worse than I did before. Reaching up a hand, I brush the tear marks away and step closer to her. Quinn looks up at me, and we both inhale at the same time, our song long forgotten.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," I whisper softly.

"It's okay," she replies. "I'm sorry too."

We stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and I'm all too aware that this is exactly like a scene from a cheesy rom-com of some description – the sort I hate. But I can't hate this moment, so I make the most of it, like some sappy male lead in the aforementioned cheesy rom-com. Angling my neck down a little, I swallow her apology with my lips, and the kiss is perfect. Just like in the movies.

"Bye, baby," Quinn whispers to Naomi, in the cot behind us, mercifully sleeping peacefully. I tug at Quinn's hand, and we slip from our little girl's room. As Quinn reaches up on tiptoes to plant a dozen or so kisses along my neck and hairline, I realise that the movies are clichéd, but life can be too. And I'm perfectly content. Quinn makes me believe – in God and life and love, and if that's clichéd and sappy and too lovey-dovey for people's liking…well, I couldn't care less. And that's got to count for something.


End file.
